


Sick Day

by SylvanFreckles



Series: Requests, Commissions, and Challenges! [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Caring Mary Winchester, Caring Rowena MacLeod, Family Feels, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Sick Jack Kline, fic request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:42:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22318657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanFreckles/pseuds/SylvanFreckles
Summary: When Jack is stuck at home recovering from bad chest cold, all he wanted was for someone to spend time with him. And with Sam and Dean on a case and Cas working on an angel problem, that leaves Mary...and Rowena. Now, if he can only convince them to stop trying to out-mother each other and just be his friends maybe he would actually feel better.(Request/Gift Fic for RobinTheSpotlight)
Relationships: Jack Kline & Mary Winchester, Jack Kline & Rowena MacLeod, Jack Kline & Rowena MacLeod & Mary Winchester
Series: Requests, Commissions, and Challenges! [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1602808
Comments: 6
Kudos: 33





	Sick Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RobinTheSpotlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinTheSpotlight/gifts).



> In exchange for reviewing every chapter of Twelve Days of Fictmas when I got desperate (lol), here is the request fic for RobinTheSpotlight!
> 
> Rowena/Jack/Mary family feels, as requested!

Having the flu, as Dean put it so succinctly, sucked.

Never mind that Sam had scolded his brother up and down the bunker that Jack _didn't_ have the flu, that what he had was a serious chest cold, Dean had kept calling it the flu until Sam stormed off to dig up a hunt to shut his brother up. After all, Mary was planning on spending a few days at the bunker brushing up on some current affairs and helping with some translation work for a novice hunter out in California, so it wasn't like they were leaving him _alone_.

Except, Jack reasoned as he tucked his blanket a little tighter around this legs, it would be nice if Sam or Dean had acted like they _wanted_ to stay with him. Castiel was helping Heaven—they'd found an angel hiding on earth and he was trying to convince them to go home to help power up Heaven, but Naomi was refusing to send anyone else so he was the only one who could do it. So it was just Jack and Mary left in the bunker, and without the noise of the other hunters or one of his dads the whole place just seemed empty and sad.

Jack loved Mary, he really did, but just...he really wanted one of his fathers. Sam had said their case would only last a few days and Cas was coming home as soon as he could (and called or texted whenever he was able) but it just didn't compare to having someone _here_.

His phone rang, pulling him out of his thoughts, and Jack's face lit up when he saw Rowena's name on the ID screen. “Row-” he broke off to cough away from the phone, “Rowena?”

“ _Jack? Oh, poor boy, you sound awful,_ ” Rowena's lilting accent was colored with sympathy, and Jack wiggled further down on the couch and closed his eyes.

“Yeah, I'm sick.”

“ _Oh no, that's just awful. My poor wee lad.”_

“I'm okay. Sam says I should be better in a few days.” Dean, of course, said he was probably going to be sick for the rest of his life, but even through the haze of NyQuil Jack had realized that was a joke.

“ _Yes, Samuel. Is he there? I've tried to call him but he isn't answering,_ ”

“No, he and Dean are on a case,” Jack twisted away from the phone to cough again.

“ _I see. Well, how about Castiel?_ ”

“He's been gone on angel business for a few days, but he should be back soon.”

Rowena was silent on the other end of the phone. Jack frowned and pulled the phone away, checking that they were still connected. “Rowena?”

“ _And...they left you there? Alone? And sick?_ ”

“Oh, no, I'm not alone. Mary's here.”

Rowena was silent again for a few minutes. Jack turned the phone away to cough into a tissue, careful to throw it in the trash can to limit the spread of germs.

“ _Well, if the boys aren't there, I suppose I can stop by myself for what I need._ ”

Jack was blowing his nose, but he picked the phone up again as soon as he was done. “You're coming?”

“ _Just to look for a few things_ ,” the witch commented, but there was something warm in her voice. “ _I'll bring you some of the remedies I used to take when I was a lass. We'll have you back on your feet in no time._ ”

Before Jack could argue, Rowena had hung up on her end. He let his phone drop into his lap and rested his head against the couch. At least it would be nice to see her again, he thought. He was pretty sure there weren't really any cures for a cold (at least Sam had said so, and even Dean admitted Sam was probably right about almost everything), but the bunker seemed so empty with just him and Mary that he was looking forward to another visitor.

“Jack?” Mary was leaning into the doorway, a steaming mug in her hands. “Did Cas call again?”

“No, that was Rowena,” Jack replied. He drew his feet up so the blonde woman could sit at the other end of the couch and pass him the mug. It was herbal tea laced with honey—the warmth always helped ease the ache in his chest while the honey soothed his scratchy throat. “She said she needed some information, but since Sam and Cas aren't here she's just going to stop by to look for it herself.”

“Oh.” Mary's lips tightened into a thin line. He knew Mary had grown up viewing witches as nothing more than another monster, but he held out hope that she could someday at least see Rowena as an ally. After all, Bobby and Jules and most of the hunters from the apocalypse world had learned to accept Castiel, so there had to be hope for Mary and Rowena.

“Thank you, Mary,” he said, after taking a sip of the tea. “You always make it so strong, I like it.”

Mary's cheeks reddened. “Well, herbal tea isn't really my strong suit,” she replied. “If you wanted coffee, now...it would still probably be pretty strong.”

“I like it like this,” Jack repeated after another sip. “Sometimes when I make it I just leave the teabag in while I drink it.”

“You rebel,” Mary teased, patting his knee. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”

Mary leaned forward to rest her hand against his forehead. Jack closed his eyes, leaning into the touch just a little. Her hand was cool and dry, and just a little rough with callouses in the same places as Sam and Dean. She smelled nicer, though. He still didn't understand why it was somehow a taboo for boys to smell like strawberries, no matter what Dean said.

“You're not running a fever,” Mary commented. “At least not a high one. Is your cough any better?” Jack started to answer, but had to turn to the side to cough into another balled-up tissue. Mary's smile was sympathetic and she patted his knee again. “Maybe a little. Just get some rest, Jack.”

“Wait,” Jack caught her wrist as she stood to leave. “Sam downloaded some old movies before he left, do you want to watch one with me?”

“I wish I could,” Mary replied, gently brushing some of his hair out of his face. “I just have so much work to do right now. Maybe later.”

He tried to keep the disappointment off his face as she left the room, but as soon as she was gone Jack sunk back down into the couch and picked his phone back up. Movies were just less fun by himself, and he didn't always understand the references. Cas had sent another update, at least—the angel he was talking to was living near a bird sanctuary, and he always sent Jack colorful pictures of parrots and songbirds and an old, scarred pelican the sanctuary workers had named Admiral. Not as good as having his father here, certainly, but it was nice to know Cas was thinking of him.

Jack closed his eyes, letting his phone rest against his chest. Later couldn't come soon enough.

* * *

“Jack? _”_

A cool, soft hand on his forehead gently pulled him out of sleep. “Mary?” he whispered.

“No, dear. It's Rowena.”

He cracked his eyes open to see the witch leaning over him, brilliant red hair cascading over one shoulder. “What time is it?”

She glanced down at the gold watch on one wrist. “Almost seven in the evening. How are you feeling, Jack?”

Jack grunted and shoved himself up, rubbing his eyes with the heel of one hand. “Better?”

Rowena gave a little laugh, sitting down on the edge of the couch near his knees. “Was that a question or an answer?”

“Both?”

She gave another of those little, tinkly laughs and patted his knee. “Well, now I'm here, I'll have you back to health in no time at all.”

He smiled at her, but had to bend over to muffle a cough in one hand. “Sorry.”

“No apology necessary, Jack,” Rowena assured him. He fumbled for the tissue box but found it empty and jerked back in surprise when Rowena offered him a handkerchief. “It won't bite you, my dear. And it can be washed.”

“Ah...thanks.” Gingerly, Jack covered his mouth and nose to cough. Rowena shifted around to place one hand on his back and rub gentle, soothing circles.

“You poor thing,” she murmured. “And the boys just left you all alone?”

“Mary's here,” Jack reminded her, when he could speak again.

Rowena sniffed daintily. “Yes, of course. Lady Winchester. Well, Jack, I'll just pop over to the kitchen and put this on the boil,” she said as she stood up, picking up a paper grocery bag. “I've got a few things to check while it's stewing, but we'll have you right as rain soon.”

Jack swung around to put his feet on the floor, fighting a wave of dizziness. “Rowena? Sam told me to just keep taking this stuff,” he explained, gesturing to a package of extra-strength cold medicine. “Maybe...could you just bring your research in here and we could watch a movie instead?”

The witch scoffed at the packaged medicine. “Nonsense, Jack. Trust me, I'll have you up on your feet in a matter of hours.”

With that, Rowena marched out of the room with the paper bag clutched close. Jack slumped back against the couch, head pounding and sinuses clogged. He really, truly was feeling better compared to the last few days. Just...lonely.

A crash from the kitchen had him sitting back up, and with a sigh Jack shuffled to his feet and pulled his robe closed. He could hear raised voices as he got closer and realized Mary and Rowena were in the middle of a heated argument over something.

“...need your... _witches brew_ ,” Mary was saying as Jack approached the door. “We were doing just fine without you.”

“Oh, fine, of course,” Rowena's voice was sharp with scorn. “Explain how you _burned_ tomato soup, then?”

“It's harder than it looks,” Mary protested. “And it's not burned, there's just stuff stuck to the bottom of the pan. That happens every time.”

“This?” Jack could hear something scraping, and really hoped Rowena hadn't just taken a metal spoon to one of Dean's prized nonstick pans. “This is burned, dear. See how it's gone all dark and bitter? You actually burned the soup, no wonder the poor boy is ill!”

“What would you know about taking care of a sick child?” Mary demanded.

“I have raised a son of my own.”

“Who became a demon! At least my boys have never done that!”

Rowena gave a dark laugh. “Oh, dearie, there's so much you don't know.”

“And what's that supposed to mean? Sam and Dean are good men.”

“Oh, no one's disputing that, Mary. I'm merely suggesting that they became good men _because_ of your absence, rather than _in spite_ of it.”

That was enough for Jack. Before Mary could make her retort he shoved his way into the kitchen, his dramatic entrance made somewhat pathetic when he stumbled into a chair and had to hang onto it for dear life. “What are you arguing about?”

“Jack!” Mary rushed to his side, turning the chair around and trying to push him to sit down. She was trying to be calm, but he could see the angry flush in her cheeks and feel her hands shaking. “What are you doing up? You should be resting!”

“Did we disturb you?” Rowena asked, straightening his robe and brushing his hair back. She almost appear unaffected, but her lips were tight and she kept glaring over at Mary. “Poor boy. I apologize, it won't happen again.”

Jack shook them both off. “Why were you fighting?” When neither woman answered he folded his arms, though he did sit down as his cold made him feel weak, and attempted his best Dean-stare at them. “I want to know.”

“Mary burned-”

“Rowena was-”

They started at the same time, but both stopped to glare at each other.

Jack sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand. “I really don't need all of this.”

“I'm sorry, Jack,” Mary rested one hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. “We'll keep it down.”

“Aye,” Rowena placed her hand on his other shoulder and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You just trot back to bed. I'll take care of the mess here and bring you something in a wee bit.”

“I was making soup,” Mary replied, her grip tightening just a little. “I'll bring you some soup.”

“If you can call it soup,” Rowena sniffed. Her hand was tightening as well. It was almost uncomfortable. “I'll clean up this disaster and bring you some _real_ food.”

“Okay, that's it!” Mary leaned over Jack to get in Rowena's face. “I've had it with your little insults! No, I'm not a cook, but John and I survived just fine even if I burned the soup now and then!”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Rowena replied. She leaned over Jack as well, until his vision was all but blocked by the two women. “That would by why you had such a long, happy marriage, hmm? Oh, wait...you _died_.”

“Enough!” Jack stood up, pushing the two apart. He swallowed down another cough and took a few steps away so he could turn around and face them, waving his hands to include the two of them as well as the disaster in the kitchen. “It's all of this! I don't need this! Cas is away on important business that couldn't wait, and Sam and Dean wouldn't have left if I wasn't going to be fine. I don't need you to do this much for me!”

“Jack,” Mary held her hands out, trying to soothe him. “I'm sorry, I got carried away. We just want what's best for you.”

“But you never asked me! You just keep trying to be my mother!” Jack pushed both hands through his hair and turned away. He hadn't meant to say that...hadn't meant to express the awful, bitter feelings that kept bubbling up.

“Jack?” Rowena was at his side, one hand on his elbow. “Is something the matter?”

He sighed, turning around again so he could face both of them. “I already have a mom,” he explained, feeling that little twist of pain and love and regret that formed in his stomach whenever he thought of Kelly. “A really, _really_ good mom. And I have Cas, and Sam and Dean. I just...I don't need another mom. I really...I just wanted a friend today.”

Mary had looked down, blinking back tears. Rowena had looped her arm through his and was studying his face with a gentle expression. “My poor lad,” she finally murmured. “I never meant to try to replace your mother, Jack. You just seemed so lonely...I just wanted to take care of you.”

“Yeah,” Mary came close enough to take his free hand. “I guess...we just thought we knew what was best and didn't even think about what you really wanted.”

Jack let out a relieved sigh, letting the two of them guide him back to the chair when his legs started to shake. “Can we please just watch a movie together? That's all I wanted.”

“Of course,” Rowena said soothingly. “I'll take care of the dishes here, and maybe Mary can find some snacks.”

“And make tea,” Mary offered. “Nice and strong, just how you like it.”

Rowena pulled a face, but this time Jack knew it was because the witch didn't approve of the way he drank tea. “That would be great,” he said. “I'll set up the projector.”

* * *

“Hey, Cas,” Dean greeted the angel as he got out of the Impala. “You're back early!”

“Susanna agreed to return to Heaven,” Cas explained. “How did your hunt go?”

“Oh, just the best,” Dean replied. He hefted his bag up to his shoulder and rolled his eyes. “Poltergeists are just so much fun.”

“Do you need me to heal you?” Cas asked worriedly, looking over Sam and Dean for injuries.

“He's just being a baby,” Sam said. “The poltergeist didn't hurt his shoulder, he just won't admit that he's old and can't take the cold as well as he used to.”

“I am not old,” Dean retorted, leading the way into the bunker. “Besides, if I'm old you are too.”

“That doesn't even make sense,” Sam complained, but fell silent when his brother pulled up short. “Dean?”

Dean held a finger to his lips and gestured to the small office they'd been using as a kind of family living room. There was a projector running one of the old black and white movies Sam had found. Jack was on the couch, fast asleep, head tipped back at an awkward angle and breathy snores rasping out of his open mouth. To his right, Rowena was curled up on the couch beside him with her head pillowed on his shoulder. Mary was at the opposite end of the couch from Rowena, her feet resting in Jack's lap and her head down against her chest.

“Think he's feeling better?” Sam whispered.

“Hope so,” Dean replied, turning away from the room with a grin. “Looks like he was in good hands.”

Sam shook his head, casting one more look at the sleeping trio. "I don't know, I kind of feel like it was the other way around."

**Author's Note:**

> In Mary's defense, it really is easy to burn tomato soup if you're not watching it. I do it all the time, and just ignore the burned part in the bottom of the pan.
> 
> (Don't worry, Cocoa, yours is coming, too, but it put its foot down and loudly declared that it wasn't going to be any shorter than four chapters and that I'd better get my Key of Solomon back out, so it's gotten...complicated lol.)
> 
> I always love taking requests. I love to write but sometimes I have trouble coming up with ideas, so don't be afraid to ask for something! That's how the story Hel's Tincture came about, people were requesting more from a chapter of Whumptober. So please! I'd love it if you asked for something (yes, you! Right there!).


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